


Dear Santa, From Draco

by mothermalfoy (slytherinxravenclaw)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Letters to Santa, M/M, Young Draco
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-09-25 00:00:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17110592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slytherinxravenclaw/pseuds/mothermalfoy
Summary: When Draco overhears his father and Uncle Severus discussing Harry Potter living in a cupboard under the stairs, Draco is determined to save him, so he writes to the only person he thinks can handle the job. Santa.





	Dear Santa, From Draco

**Author's Note:**

> Based on an idea from daddiesdrarry about Draco writing a letter to Santa, I really wanted to write this and make it slightly more angsty than it was. Happy Holigays.

Draco held his crayon tight between his pale little fingers, as he tried to color in between the lines of his Fantastic Beasts coloring book, the fireplace was warm on his skin. Snow flurried outside the window of the Manor. Narcissa was sitting on the sofa, across from Draco, reading a book as her son colored on the floor. A loud crack echoed through the hall, and Draco looked up excitedly, as he heard the voice of his Uncle Sev, emanating from the hall. Dropping his crayon, Draco got to his feet, padding across the wood floor in his footie pajamas and made his way toward the hall where his Uncle Sev was standing in the foyer talking animatedly with his father. Draco watched, keeping behind the edge of the door frame so as not to interrupt them.

“A cupboard!” Severus shouted, laying his head on Lucius’s shoulder. Lucius sighed wrapping his arms around the other man’s back. “How could Albus allow this?” he demanded. Draco watched his father and uncle intently, he had never seen his Uncle Sev cry before. “And those  _vile_ Muggles! He’s six for Merlin’s sake! And they have him acting as their house elf living in a bloody cupboard like some…” he shuddered. “How could Albus allow Lily’s son to be treated this way? By these… these… cretins, scum of the earth. Was it not bad enough they died to save him only for him to be locked away? Unwanted?” Draco’s lip trembled as he watched his Uncle Sev weep on his father’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry darling,” Lucius said, running his hand across Severus’s back.

“It’s not right. Poor Harry,” he sniffed. “There must be s-something we can–” Severus clutched a hand to his mouth as he caught sight of Draco standing behind them, his eyes sparkling with unshed tears. “Oh sweetheart,” Severus moved out of the blond’s grasp and ran to Draco’s side, dropping down so he was the same height as the small boy. Draco sniffed looking up at his Uncle.

“H-Harry Potter lives in a cupboard?” he sniffed. Severus sighed, wrapping his arms around Draco lifting him into his arms.

“You weren’t meant to hear that dragon,” he sighed, looking helplessly at Lucius. Narcissa appeared in the doorway taking in the sight of her sobbing son in the arms of her husband’s lover. Narcissa’s eyes lowered.

“What’s happened?”

“H-Harry P-Potter l-lives in a cupboard,” Draco sobbed. Narcissa gasped.

“Severus is this true?” she asked. Severus frowned but nodded. “Why would Albus allow that to happen?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted, handing Draco quietly to his mother. Draco burrowed his face into his mother’s shoulder, the calm scent of her perfume, so comforting as he sniffed, still crying softly, hiccoughing as she hugged him close. Narcissa sighed.

“I think it’s time for bed little dragon,” she whispered into his hair, carrying him up the stairs and into his room, leaving Severus and Lucius alone. Narcissa placed her son into his bed and pulled the covers up under his chin.

“Will anyone save him, mother?” Draco asked, Narcissa stared at the devastated face of her son.

“I believe someone will darling dragon,” she said and kissed his forehead. Draco curled up beneath the warm blanket and waited for his mother to leave the room, shutting the door behind her.

“I know who can rescue Harry,” Draco said, as he leaped out of bed and ran to the small writing desk that sat across the room and pulled out a piece of parchment and a quill. Scribbling his note as quickly and neatly as he could manage.

Draco folded the parchment and opened his bedroom window, moving to his sleeping owl that sat in the corner of the room. Draco smiled, stroking the bird’s soft pale feathers before he tied the note to his leg.

“Go find Santa, Atticus,” he said. The owl’s amber eyes opened slowly, staring at Draco for a moment. “Find Santa Claus. North pole,” the owl fluttered its wings, leaping off its perch as it soared out of the open window and took off into the air. Draco watched the owl from his open window, as it disappeared into the falling snow.  _Everything would be okay soon,_ he thought.  _Santa would rescue Harry,_ and with that, Draco shut his window and made his way back to bed, climbing in, and pulled the blankets over himself once more. Draco yawned, and closed his eyes, thinking of his new friend who would no doubt be waiting for him come Christmas morning.

*** * * THE NORTH POLE * * ***

Santa sat in his overstuffed chair by the fire, checking his list for the upcoming Christmas delivery, when the owl tapped on his window. Santa looked up at the owl and waved his wand at the window. The owl flew in from the cold, all but collapsing at Santa’s feet by the fire, the owl looked half frozen. Santa frowned as he bent down and picked up the letter, moving the owl closer to the warmth. Pointing his wand he cast a cushioning charm on the ground and made some water and owl treats appear beside the unconscious bird before he turned to look at the letter:

_Dear Santa,_

_My name is Draco Malfoy, I’m six and a half years old and I need your help, saving Harry Potter. He lives in a cupboard with mean Muggles, and I would like you to rescue him and bring him to Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire, England. I promise I’ve been very good this year. Please help._

_Please and thank you._

_Also, if it’s not too much trouble I wouldn’t be opposed to a new training broom._

_\- Draco Lucius Malfoy_

Santa read and re-read the letter several times.  _A cupboard? Harry Potter?_ Even Santa knew the name of the boy who lived.  _What Muggles would think to do such a thing?_ Santa shook his head. It was not in his purview to kidnap small children for other children and yet, he could hardly deny the wholesome nature of the boy’s request. He  _was_ after all only trying to rescue Harry Potter from neglect and abuse. And if Santa couldn’t save him from that who would? Santa looked at his watch, it was nearing midnight in the Muggle world, getting to his feet, Santa stretched and prepared to make his first delivery. But first, he would need to call on an old friend.

*** * * #4 Privet Drive * * ***

Harry was fast asleep in his cupboard when the fireplace roared to life, and a portly man in an emerald green cloak stepped out of it, Harry jumped as he heard his cupboard door opening. Eyes wide, Harry squished himself into the back wall of his cupboard when the man approached him.

“W-who are you?” Harry asked, heart racing.

“Why I’m Santa Claus of course,” Santa said with a grin. “Now come out of there,” he said, holding out his gloved hand for Harry to take. Harry stared at the bearded man and took his hand. He looked nervously outside his cupboard, sure it must be a trick and any second Uncle Vernon or Aunt Petunia would laugh at him, and lock him away in his cupboard until New Year. Harry shivered, his threadbare hand me down pajamas hanging loosely off his frame as he stood in the darkened corridor lit only by the light of the moon coming through the window. It was then, that Harry saw another figure standing in the corner of the room. He was tall with black fur and horns, Harry wanted to scream, or cry, or run, for why would Santa be hanging out with  _that,_ but the creature did not notice Harry as it crept up the stairs. “He’s not here for you my boy,” Santa said with a kind smile. “Now, come with me,” Santa ushered Harry towards the fireplace, holding his hand as the stepped into the fire. Harry’s eyes widened as he followed, the cool flames licking at his skin as Santa pulled a bit of powder out of his pocket and shouted. “Malfoy Manor!” The flames devoured them and Harry’s heart raced as the living room vanished, the sound of screams echoing behind them as they raced through space. Seconds later, he landed with a jolt, and Harry fell out of the fireplace and onto the floor.

A blond haired woman got to her feet and was at his side almost instantly, as two men stood in a corner, staring at the scene. Harry looked up at the woman, his eyes wide, “Are you… Harry Potter?” she asked, taking in his scar. Harry nodded nervously, looking around the room. The dark-haired man’s eyes widened and he ran over to Harry, pushing back his fringe to stare at the scar. “How on earth did you get here?” the woman asked as she stared at the fireplace behind him. Harry followed her gaze, the fireplace was empty, no Santa in sight, not even a fire in the hearth, he swallowed.

“I… Santa, I think,” he said quietly. The adults in the room all stared at one another then back down at Harry. The woman called for a someone, and a second later a small creature with wide round eyes and long bat-like ears appeared. Harry nearly jumped.

“Dobby,” the woman said. “Take Harry and get him cleaned up, and get him a fresh pair of pajamas and put him in the nursery.” The creature called Dobby nodded and offered his hand to the small boy. Harry looked around the room, and took the creature’s hand, following him out of the ornate room he’d been in, out into a corridor, and up the stairs.

Harry looked around in wonder at the place where he’d ended up, certain it must be a dream, for magic, and Santa did not exist, Harry knew. The Dursley’s had made that clear. Still, it was the most realistic dream Harry had ever had, and he couldn’t help but want to see where it could take him.

Twenty minutes later, found Harry in a bed that had been transformed from a rocking horse before his very eyes. Harry had blinked staring at the bed before the creature had helped him into it. It was so soft and warm and as Harry closed his eyes, he wondered if his mind would ever allow him to return in his dreams once more.

The next morning, Harry awoke to excited shouts just outside his door, his heart sank. It  _had_ been a dream then, he thought, keeping his eyes squeezed shut, trying to hold on to the dream for a few moments longer when the door suddenly burst open. Harry’s eyes shot open and he gasped as he took in the same room he’d gone to sleep in. A blond haired boy stood at the side of his bed, staring up at him excitedly.

“Harry!” he said leaping into the bed to pull him into a hug. Harry blinked, unsure what to do as the boy simply held him. “Santa got my letter!” he said happily. Harry stared at the boy when they pulled away.

“You sent Santa to get me?” Harry asked. The blond nodded excitedly. “Why? How did you know where I was?”

“Uncle Sev,” Draco said as he jumped off the bed. “Come on. There’s gifts under the tree for you to Harry,” Draco said. Harry tentatively pulled off the covers sure the dream world would fall out beneath him if he got out of bed. The excitable blond grabbed his hand and pulled him to his feet. Harry yelped as he tugged him out the door and down the stairs. Harry could hardly believe it as he stared at the gigantic Christmas tree that stood in the ballroom, overflowing with presents. Harry was used to seeing nothing under a large tree for him, and yet, Draco was handing him several gifts from beneath the tree. “Come on,” Draco said excitedly, unwrapping his own gifts. Harry sat down beside him, simply staring at the growing pile of gifts for himself.

If this was a dream, Harry thought, he didn’t ever want to wake up.

*** * * TWENTY YEARS LATER * * ***

Draco Malfoy stood at his desk, reading over the letter he’d written to Santa for Scorpius, and sighed happily.

Warm arms wrapped around his waist from behind and Draco turned to find his husband smiling at him, “Harry,” he said happily, pressing their lips together.

“Who’s that too then?” Harry asked as he stared at the letter in Draco’s hands, nuzzling his neck.

“Santa of course,” Draco said with a smile.

“Aren’t you a little old to be sending Santa letters?” Harry asked. Draco laughed, turning around in his husband’s grasp.

“I’ll have you know this one is for Scorpius. But actually, I write Santa every year to thank him for the best gift he’s ever given me.”

“A Firebolt 5s?”

“Nope.”

“Nimbus 2013?”

“Try again.”

“Um… that one very rare potions book you were looking for for years?”

Draco laughed, “You Harry,” Draco said with a smile, his arms wrapped around Harry’s neck. “He brought me you, and that’s the best Christmas gift I could have ever asked for. You know I never asked for anything else after that.”

“I find that very hard to believe,” Harry teased. Draco glared.

“I’ll have you know I was a good boy every year but I didn’t want anything other than your friendship.”

“And attention,” Harry reminded him with a smirk.

“Well,” Draco laughed.

“Come on love, our friends are all waiting downstairs for us,” Harry said, pressing a soft kiss to Draco’s lips. Draco sighed happily, following Harry down the stairs with a contented sigh. He had always loved Christmas, and this Christmas, with his stomach once more full with their latest child, Draco couldn’t help but feel as though it were the best Christmas ever. Again. 

 

 


End file.
